Heavy Fortune
by Shotzette
Summary: Sequel to A Coupla Guys.


Heavy Fortune

By Shotzette

PG-13

_This is a work of fan fiction, nothing more. It is not intended to infringe upon anyone's copyrights or intellectual properties. This was written for grins and giggles, not dollars and cents…_

The sequel to "A Coupla Guys"

"Let go of Rhonda's hand, NOW!" Rhonda bellowed at Squiggy as she painfully yanked her hand out of his small, clammy grip. She winced as her hand rebounded into the metal railing of the stairway outside of her apartment door. Great, she thought, an audition for a soap opera in two days and she was going to show up bruised like a peach.

"Don't you mean, 'Get your UGLY hands offa me?' Rhonda?" I know that's what you're thinking," the small man hollered as he cradled his head in his hands and moaned melodramatically.

Rhonda favored him with a withering look. "Shirley was the one who said that you were unattractive, Squiggy. Rhonda kept her opinion to herself."

"Oh, I forgot. You was so concerned about Lenny being stupid that you forgot I was ugly, right?"

"Basically, yes."

Any further comment Rhonda may have had was interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps running down the stairs. Sonny St. Jacques looked at them both angrily. "Are you okay?" he asked Rhonda, as he grabbed Squiggy by his shirtfront.

"I'm fine," she snapped.

Sonny's dark eyes never left Squiggy's face. "I think you're done for tonight," he said quietly, but in a tone that left no room for argument.

"Done? I haven't even begun…" Squiggy's voice dropped off to a whimper when Sonny lifted him from the ground. "Now, I'm done." The smaller man skulked off under Sonny's angry gaze.

Despite herself, Rhonda smiled at Sonny. "Thanks."

"Forget about it," he grunted in response as he looked away from her. "I just don't trust that little creep, or his friend."

"They're harmless. Unfortunately, they're also annoying."

Sonny looked at her in surprise. "Harmless? How can you say that after hearing last week about what they tried to do to those girls in Nevada?"

Rhonda rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Did you actually believe that story?"

"I didn't believe what those two creeps said, but I believe what Laverne and Shirley said. Didn't you?"

"Rhonda found both stories to be a bit over the top."

"Are you calling Laverne a liar?" Sonny asked, as his features darkened.

"No. But Rhonda is sure that neither story was one hundred percent true. Really, Sonny, don't you think those girls could handle those two idiots?" At his stony silence, she continued. "Well, Rhonda must assume love is blind."

Sonny's eyes narrowed even further. "That's a rotten thing to say. What do you have against Laverne?"

"Nothing," Rhonda smirked. "I'm just surprised that you think she was the most talented person in the room tonight."

"Ooh," he replied, rocking back on his heels as his face relaxed into a smug, and not pleasant, smile, "So you're just jealous."

Rhonda drew herself up to her full five feet ten inches before replying icily. "Rhonda isn't jealous of anyone, Sonny. Especially a department store gift wrapper without an iota of talent."

"Laverne is a wonderful tap dancer!"

Rhonda laughed harshly, a marked contrast to her practiced feminine giggle. "Yes, and that's such an in-demand skill at auditions these days."

"That's not a problem since Laverne isn't a professional entertainer." Sonny said as he crossed his arms and leaned back against the railing.

"I know, and that's what makes her so convenient for you, isn't it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Sonny's tone was the same, but he was no longer looking her in the eye.

"Don't you? She's the perfect girlfriend for you, isn't she? She adores you, and she has no ambition, so she'll never be a threat."

"Rhonda…" Sonny's tone now held a note of warning.

The words tumbled out of Rhonda's mouth heedlessly. "Her career will never overshadow yours. Heck, she can quit anytime down the road and start cranking out babies whenever you two want, can't she? You'll always be the only star in the family. Isn't that what you've always wanted?" she finished with a mean smile.

Sonny grimaced and for a moment seemed to wrestle with his self control. "No, Rhonda. I've always wanted a woman would make a relationship with me a priority in her life. Laverne has a brain. She's sensible and she's not so caught up in Hollywood that she can't even refer to herself in the first person anymore." His eyes finally met hers as he delivered the crowing blow, "She's a nice change of pace from what I've had in the past."

Rhonda felt her cheeks redden, and fought a nearly overwhelming impulse to knock the handsome of the big idiot's face. A quiet cough interrupted her. She turned to see Carmine Ragusa standing awkwardly behind them and looking like he wished he was anywhere else on God's green earth but there.

"Hey," he offered weakly as he tried to smile. "I just wanted to let you both know that we're all ordering Chinese for dinner. Interested?"

Rhonda forced her anger down inside and favored Carmine with a brilliant smile. "Chinese sounds lovely," she cooed as she took him by the arm and led him away from the still seething Sonny. "Rhonda would love to have dinner with her newest and dearest friends."

"Sonny?" Carmine asked.

"Yeah. I'm in. I've got coupons back at my place. I'll catch up with you two," he said absently as he took off down the stairs.

Rhonda started to open her mouth, and then decided against it. What good was a wonderful performance, without the right people in the audience to appreciate it? She smiled brilliantly at Carmine as they headed back to the girls' apartment arm in arm.

The deliveryman from Wong Foo's was late, Carmine thought as he glanced at his wristwatch for the second time in five minutes. Instead of the usual raucous laughter that seemed to be a fixture in 113 1/2 Laurel Vista, the mood was subdued, and the small spurts of conversation were forced. He began to wonder, yet again, if gathering in the girl's apartment for dinner so soon after so much hurt had been served up was a good idea.

Carmine looked surreptitiously at his companions while he feigned interest in the dog-eared copy of "Reader's Digest" that sat on the girl's coffee table. His friends weren't a pretty sight. Sonny alternated between shooting Rhonda dirty looks over Laverne's head then engaging in overly bubbly conversation with Laverne. Carmine suppressed a groan, when Laverne let loose with a peal of artificially girlish laughter. When the hell did Laverne decide that she was the Italian Sandra Dee? The puppy love glances and smiles that she was flashing Sonny were threatening to give Carmine diabetes with their overly done sweetness. How could this possibly be the same brutally blunt woman who not an hour earlier had read him the riot act about not going after his dreams?

Unfortunately, every time Carmine glanced at Laverne, he felt Lenny's angry eyes bore holes through him. He'd tried to get the guy into a conversation, to tell a joke to make him laugh--anything to stop those twin beams of blue from ripping through his skull. So far, nothing had worked.

Squiggy was proving to be even less helpful than usual. Instead of partaking in his usual idiocy with Lenny, he sat away from the crowd and stared at the floor. Carmine was amazed he'd even shown up considering how unnaturally quiet the little guy was being. Little guy. Funny, he rarely thought of Squiggy that way. The jerk was usually able to summon up the bravura of five guys and puff himself up to fill his surroundings. Tonight however, he just seemed small. Small and sad.

Damn Rhonda and her stupid game anyhow, Carmine cursed inwardly for the umpteenth time that night. For a game that was supposed to bring people together with all of this "honesty", he'd never seen his friends further apart. He'd try to catch Rhonda's eye a few times, but she continued to regard Laverne and Sonny with a steely gaze. Until an hour ago, he hadn't thought the glitzy broad was capable of such focus and determination.

Then again, he hadn't known a lot about anyone before today, if he were honest. Sonny and Rhonda? The Stunt Man and the Poodle? He couldn't picture it. Sonny had never even brought Rhonda's name up in conversation. Never. Not that Carmine and the big guy had many conversations that didn't revolve around Laverne or how much hot water Carmine was hogging in the shower, but he still couldn't picture it. Sonny was, despite being relatively successful in show business, pretty darn down to earth and normal. None of those adjectives could be applied to Rhonda. Ever. Perhaps it had been one of those two-lonely-people-having-a-drink-and one-thing-leading-to-another moments. It wasn't like he was a stranger to that situation, he thought as Lucille Lockwash's face came to mind.

Then again, he reflected, Sonny and Rhonda didn't owe him, or anyone any explanation for anything that may, or may not have, occurred prior to the great Milwaukee exodus.

Carmine wondered fleetingly if Laverne knew, than almost laughed aloud. Of course Laverne didn't know! He loved Laverne like a sister, despite a hormonally induced awkward moment four years ago, but he knew that there was no way in heaven that Laverne could know about a past relationship between her boyfriend and the bimbo-goddess next door and be okay with it. He'd never give her that much credit.

He glanced to his left, and saw Shirley looking at him, her expression unreadable. He smiled at her, an expression than quickly faded as she turned pointedly away from him. Before he could say anything, the doorbell finally rang.

Carmine had never been so glad to see moo goo gai pan in his life.

Shirley put the overcooked spare rib back on her plate, and fought the urge to spit her one bite out into her napkin. Disgusting, she thought. Wong Foo's was good two weeks ago. How could a restaurant go from delicious to horrible in so short a time span? Then again, maybe it wasn't the food as much as it was the company, she thought as her eyes drifted back towards Carmine.

What was with him tonight? He was either looking at his watch every two seconds like he had someplace he'd rather be, or he was staring at everyone in a fixed and creepy sort of way. He reminded her of the old drunk who used to hang out in the vacant lot behind the brewery and shout at the squirrels for causing the Great Depression.

Then again, she should be used to that by now. Thoughts and instincts, usually buried under her optimistically romantic nature surfaced without bidding. Good old Carmine, always there for her. For while, at least. Shirley's stomach reeled and she abandoned the idea of eating just her steamed rice. Darn him anyhow. What kind of man walks out on his girlfriend when she's just had a bowl of pudding thrown in her face? Not to mention, she thought as she shot Laverne a sour look, to run upstairs after the thrower of the said pudding.

She sighed as her dirty look was wasted on Laverne. Her friend sat across from Sonny, favoring him with a simpering sweet smile. You would have thought Laverne had learned her lesson, Shirley reflected, as a certain softball team captain's face flashed before her eyes. She groaned inwardly. As many times as she'd urged Laverne to act more ladylike, and soften her rough edges, she'd never realized how truly nauseating the end result could be.

I wonder if Carmine put her up to this, she wondered. She stole a look at her boyfriend, and then looked away quickly when she realized that he'd been staring at her. What else could they have been talking about upstairs? Shirley shook off an unpleasant memory, and stared at the greasy hunk of meat on her plate. Considering the alternatives, the greasy meat didn't look half bad.

"Shirley?"

She blinked and realized Squiggy had asked her a question. "I'm sorry, Andrew. I wasn't paying attention."

"Big surprise," he sneered. "I guess you're looking everywhere but my ugly way tonight."

Embarrassment for her earlier cruelty caused Shirley's cheeks to redden. Why did I play along? I knew I should have kept my mouth shut. She glanced at Rhonda and mentally cursed the big bimbo for bringing such a cruel game into her house. Rhonda was too busy staring at Sonny—apparently every woman's new favorite pastime--to notice. Cursing her earlier spinelessness, Shirley looked back towards Squiggy. "I…"

"Save it," Squiggy said shortly. "Here, take my fortune cookie," he said as he held out his hand. "I ain't as hungry as I thought I was".

Shirley instinctively winced at the thought of eating food that Squiggy had touched, despite her guilt over hurting his feelings. "No thanks, I have my own. See," she said, as she hastily picked up her cookie and cracked it open. She glanced at her fortune, and the three words chilled her. _"It is over"._ Three words, and that was it. No ancient Oriental wisdom, or sayings of Confucius. Three lousy words.

"It's over," she mumbled aloud.

"What?" Carmine said, his dark eyes pinning her down with intensity.

"My fortune. _"It is over_" is all it says", she said, trying to make light, and then wondering why three little words bothered her so much.

"Oh." Carmine looked away again before reaching for his cookie. She somehow wasn't surprised to see that his moo goo gai pan was mostly untouched. No one appeared to be enjoying his or her food—or their company—tonight. "_It is over_"," he mumbled.

Shirley blinked. "Excuse me?"

Carmine held out the small piece of paper for her inspection. "I got the same fortune. Weird, huh?" he asked, his voice taking on the too light tones that it did when he was truly uneasy.

"Yes. That's a mighty strong coincidence," she said, trying to keep her voice light. Her chest was pounding, but it was almost like a chain across her heart had broken. The free feeling was at once wonderful and frightening. "_It is over_," she repeated, her eyes locked onto Carmine's as she let herself embrace the words she had feared for so long. She favored him with a lopsided smile. "What are the odds that we'd both get that tonight of all nights?"

Carmine still stared at her, but there was softness to his eyes, his gaze was now sad, rather than eerie. "What are the odds?" he repeated and shrugged.

"Odds, schmodds," Squiggy interrupted. "It means they ain't got any intelligent people locked up in the fortune cookie factory no more. They probably just got some joe's off the street that type out anything for a buck," he said, looking more dejected with each uttered word. "It ain't no oriental mystery worthy of The Black Scorpion. Its just business. That reminds me, I gotta go make some calls," he said as he rose from the sofa. "I can't run Squignowki Talent sitting here on my kiester playing kiddy games with you guys. We got a business to run, don't we Lenny?" he asked, as he looked at his partner and roommate.

"Yeah," the blond man said absently. "You can take care of that on your own, right Squig? I wanna hang out here for while."

Shirley looked over at Squiggy and saw him quickly cover his surprise over Lenny's rare refusal of his request. Squiggy did it very well. "I wonder how much he actually holds in," she wondered, and then wondered at herself for wondering.

Squiggy smiled a smile devoid of humor, a seemingly conditioned response to the many slights he'd endured throughout his life. Slights that were ignored, Shirley realized sadly, because acknowledging them was something that Squiggy couldn't do. She had broken through his defenses today, she realized with grim satisfaction. She hoped she'd never do it again.

"Yeah. Whatever. Okay," Squiggy said in clipped tones. "Don't come whining to me when Natalie Wood calls me all desperate for new representation tonight. You, my chum, missed the float," he said, as he walked out of the girl's apartment without looking at Lenny.

"Sure, Squig. Have fun," Lenny replied, as he toyed with his own fortune cookie before setting it on the edge of the coffee table.

"I can't believe you guys got such lousy fortunes," Laverne mumbled. She shot Shirley a look that was questioning, yet with an undercurrent of nervousness. Laverne glanced quickly at Carmine, and then back to Shirley as her brows rose in question.

Shirley fought back a smile. She understood the root of Laverne's panic, the fear of nearly being thirty and without a man. She knew that Laverne had always envied her on off relationship with Carmine, despite it's not-so-steady state, and she'd often wondered if Laverne saw Sonny as her Carmine, secretly hoping all along that she was wrong. She knew why Laverne was afraid, a lifetime of being alone should have been terrifying, and Shirley would have shared in that fear an hour ago. Now… It just didn't matter. The cookie was right; she and Carmine were over. And… the earth still turned on its axis, there was still strife in Southeast Asia, and she would get up at seven o'clock tomorrow morning and go wrap gifts at Bardwells. It would be just like any other day. And that was okay. Shirley smiled at her friend, trying to reassure her, but Sonny had once again stolen Laverne's attention.

Her muscular landlord was on his feet and gesturing angrily, "Stupid fortunes, undercooked pork, we should really call Wong Foo's and try to get our money back. I mean, if I'd have known that their food was this lousy, I wouldn't have wasted time clipping those coupons!"

"Yeah right," mumbled Carmine under his breath, as he shot Shirley an amused glance.

Sonny however, didn't seem as amused. "Money doesn't grow on trees, Ragusa. Neither does hot water."

"Nah, you have to farm that," said Lenny quietly to Rhonda, who let out a quiet giggle.

"Leonard, you surprise me," the statuesque blonde said, in her normally flirtatious manner.

"It ain't hard since you don't expect much from guys with low IQs," was Lenny's uncharacteristically biting reply.

"Knock it off," said Laverne as she reached for a fortune cookie. Breaking it open, she read aloud in her Brooklyn monotone, "_Someone has a secret_." She smiled, a pasted-on smile to Shirley's eyes. "I don't get it."

Rhonda let out an unladylike guffaw, and looked pointedly in Sonny's direction.

"What?" Laverne asked, as her voice descended from the high-pitched and overly sweet tones of the last hour and took on an additional roughness.

"Nothing," Sonny growled as he grabbed the cookie, crushing it in his obvious eagerness to get it out of Laverne's hand

"Sonny…Ow!" Laverne shouted, as she flinched back and held her injured hand. "What's with you?"

The large man had suddenly leapt to his feet and started grabbing the paper food containers and hustling them to the kitchen. "I'm tired," he snapped at Laverne, but to Shirley's eyes, his real anger was directed toward Rhonda. "Lousy, overpriced food topping off a lousy afternoon--I've had enough!"

A look of puzzlement crossed Laverne's face. "Calm down, Sonny. It's only a cookie. Everything's fine, Shirley and I made up and…"

"Can you just let it drop, Laverne?" Sonny shouted.

Shirley was about to say something, to rebuke him for speaking to her friend that way, but Carmine caught her gaze and shook his head slightly. She glanced in the direction that Carmine was looking and saw Laverne and Sonny practically squaring off with each other, and Lenny, his eyes strangely unreadable, standing just behind Sonny, as if waiting for him to make a move.

"What is wrong with you?" Laverne demanded, her foray into sweetness and light apparently a thing of the past.

"Yes, Sonny," Rhonda interjected smoothly, "Why would you get so upset over a tiny little fortune."

"Sonny's right," said Carmine, as he stared daggers at Rhonda. "We're all tired. Why don't we just call it a night?" he pleaded.

Laverne didn't seem to hear any of it, and continued to focus on her boyfriend. "Sonny, if something's wrong, you can talk to me about it. Let's just go back to your place, and …"

"Maybe you should stay here, Laverne," said Lenny quietly, his manner oddly protective.

"Len," began Carmine.

"I really don't like thinking that I'm the only one not in on the joke," said Laverne evenly.

"I know how that feels," mumbled Lenny, as he shot Carmine a dirty look.

"There isn't any joke, unless you count the people in this room," Sonny said.

"Sonny!" Laverne cried out, shocked. She blinked a few times, and then her mouth dropped open in surprise and realization finally hit her. "Oh my god… Sonny, what haven't you told me?"

The larger man sneered, but there was nervousness to his manner that made Shirley uneasy. "This is ridiculous," he muttered.

Rhonda stepped forward, smiling like a cat that'd gotten a mouthful of rotten canary. "Well, Sonny?" The blonde looked at the stuntman, and to Shirley, and entire argument of glares seemed to go on between the two of them.

"Shut up, Rhonda," Sonny growled, his face contorting in a way that made Shirley wonder how she'd ever considered him handsome.

Laverne's eyes flashed from Sonny to Rhonda, and then widened in slow, painful surprise. "Oh. Oh," she repeated and looked as if she was going to throw up, "I didn't even…" Laverne seemed to go pale under her tan and sat down feebly on the couch.

Sonny sat down next her and attempted to puller her into his arms. "Laverne…"

She wriggled away, still not looking at him and breathing deeply and rhythmically; as if she was afraid she would stop.

"Laverne," Sonny repeated.

"Shut up," was her toneless reply.

"What went on with Rhonda, I mean, it's over," the big man explained lamely, his eyes darting all over the room as if to find support.

She finally looked at him, her green eyes filling with tears. "It's so over you couldn't even mention it?"

He shook his head, "It was so meaningless I didn't think it had to?"

Part of Shirley was glad to see Rhonda flinch as she responded to his words. "That's not what you were calling me six months ago."

"Get out," Laverne muttered tonelessly from the couch. She raised her head up from her hands and looked at Sonny and Rhonda with an expression of disgust on her face. "Get out," she repeated more loudly, "Now, both of you. All of you…"

Sonny shook his head in disbelief, "Laverne…"

"The lady said to leave," Lenny said quietly, his tone nearly an octave lower than his usual nasal whine.

Carmine stood up and went over to Lenny's side, almost as back up. Yet, Shirley reflected, for the first time in her life, Lenny didn't seem like he needed assistance from anyone.

Sonny looked at Laverne incredulously. "Laverne, what happened between me and Rhonda is over. It was over long before you moved in. I don't see what the big deal is."

She shook her head. "I don't care about what you've done before I entered the picture. You ain't a monk. I care that you never told me," she said, jabbing him in the chest with her index finger to punctuate her words.

Sonny snorted, but continued to back away from her. "I don't owe you any explanations."

Laverne shook her head, and her face contorted in what Shirley could nearly describe as a smile, "You do when they're my friends. Or so I thought," Laverne growled as she spared Rhonda an ugly glare. "You do if they're in my house more than they're in their own."

"It was a fling," he tried to explain. "She was fun. Hell," he smirked, "half of the town knows how fun Rhonda is."

Shirley's lips pursed together in anger, and she was shocked to see this side of her usually gentlemanly landlord.

"Now you don't like fun girls, Sonny? Since when?" Laverne asked, as sarcasm dripped from her words.

"Laverne, you're not like that," Sonny said.

"Like what?" Laverne growled as she watched him with a maliciously expectant gleam in her eyes.

"You're a nice girl, you're the kind…" Sonny began.

"That you take home to Mama?"

"Well, yes," he nodded.

Inwardly Shirley groaned. Not the right thing to say, Sonny, she thought as memories of the fleets of men Laverne had dated back in Milwaukee danced before her eyes. She quickly glanced at Carmine and had to admit, for all of their on again off again times together, he'd always been respectful and discreet when it came to the other women he'd been with. East Milwaukee wasn't a big neighborhood, and she wasn't that naïve, but she'd never heard him say a disparaging word about his "conquests."

Laverne's voice rose shrilly, a sound that made Shirley long to hear the more pleasant sound of fingernails on a chalkboard. "So, how long was this fling?"

"A couple of months," mumbled Sonny, as he looked around the room, his gaze no longer contemptuous but now pleading.

"Six," Rhonda said, biting off the word.

Laverne's jaw dropped. "Six months? That ain't no fling, Sonny. Six months means Rhonda meant something to you, which, considering the way you're treating her now, means nothing." She shook her head sadly, and to Shirley's eyes, looked as if the wind had left her sails. "How are you going to describe me when we break up, Sonny?" she asked in an acid voice.

Sonny grabbed her arms and pulled her closer to him, "We're not going go break up, Laverne. I'd never do that to you. You and I could have something together."

Laverne shook her head, and pushed away from him. "No. No, we couldn't."

"I'm not going to break up with you!" Sonny said, as his tone made the hairs on the back of Shirley's neck stand on end.

"I'm breaking up with you," Laverne said, quietly, almost dully. "Now. I hate it when people lie to me," Laverne muttered at Sonny, before pausing to give Lenny a quick look. "I don't ever want to see you again, Sonny St. Jacques. Ever," she said as she stepped back from him then turned and walked up the stairs to her bedroom.

"Laverne!" Sonny shouted at her back.

"Sonny," Carmine said. "Enough. It's over."

"But…" the big man sputtered helpless, obviously bewildered at the turn of events.

"No. Laverne was right. Everybody," Carmine said growling at Rhonda, "out."

Lenny opened the door for Rhonda and for once didn't leer at the statuesque blonde's backside as she left. Lenny spared Carmine a grim look before following Rhonda out the door.

"Lenny," Carmine said, his eyes unreadable to Shirley, "Wait up. I'm leaving too."

Shirley saw some sort of understanding flash between the two men, but she was damned if she could decipher it. Taking a deep breath, she ran upstairs to comfort her best friend.

Laverne blinked against the overly bright sunlight streaming in through her balcony doors as she slowly walked down the stairs. Her nose wrinkled at the stench of the hours-hold Chinese food wafting through the living room, and she grimly began to collect the mostly full paper cartons from her living room. Her stomach roiled as the scent hit her nostrils and she vowed to never order from Wong Foo's again. Then again, she reasoned, after last night, she never wanted to have anything to do with Chinese food again. Ever. Especially, she thought as she glared at the lone cookie teetering on the edge of her coffee table, fortune cookies. She was reaching for the offending cookie, and ready to send it to carry-out purgatory with the rest of its happy family when a soft knock on her door caught her attention.

"Come in," she said reflexively before realizing that Sonny could be on the other side. She'd never been so relieved to see Lenny Kosnowski in her life.

Laverne exhaled sharply, and tried to shake off her momentary panic. "Hey," she said.

Lenny favored her with a sad smile. "Hey. I just wanted to see how you was doing."

She shrugged. "I've been better." She smiled back at him. She was fine, she told herself. She made the right decision in dumping Sonny last night. She was nearly thirty and alone. The last thought made her wince.

Lenny cocked his head, and crossed his arms in front of him; but his eyes told her that he didn't buy her brave words for a second. "Have you talked to him?"

She carried the half full cartons to the kitchen, walking briskly away from him, from the pain. It doesn't hurt, she repeated to herself. It's over. You and he are over. "I said what I had to say last night," was her quick reply.

"Oh," he said neutrally. "Need any help cleaning up?"

Laverne nodded, relieved to be occupied by the mundane and not the painful. "Yeah… I didn't realize how upset Shirley must have been over me to not clean up before going in to work this morning," she said as she visualized her best friend's guilty face over leaving her home in such disarray.

"You're just getting up?"

Laverne nodded, uncomfortable again. "I was up most of the night. Y'know, crying," she added needlessly.

"You're eyes look puffy."

"Thanks," she said in mock irritation, although she was glad for the distraction. Just laugh, DeFazio, she told herself. It don't hurt when you laugh.

"Not in a bad way," Lenny added in his awkwardly comforting way.

Laverne grinned, a real one, not a forced one this time. "Skip it. I'd just like to forget that yesterday ever happened."

"Yeah," he nodded in agreement. "Me too. But," he added as the smile left his face, "we can't, can we?"

His question hung between them, but there was a non-verbal, but familiar yearning in his tone. Oh god, she thought. Not this, not now. She forced a grim smile, and inwardly rationalized that at least anger was a safe emotion to have. "I swear if I ever see Rhonda Lee again…" she began.

Lenny gave her an odd look. "You will. She lives next door."

"Don't remind me," Laverne growled, "I'm already thinking about moving."

Lenny's mouth dropped open in shock, "You're kidding."

"Sonny's the building manager. I don't want to have to see him every time my toilet's clogged up."

Lenny let out his walrus-like guffaw, "I think that would be the perfect time to see him."

Laverne let out a short bray of laughter despite herself, and favored Lenny with a grateful smile. He always had a way of making her feel better when she was at her worst. Not that she'd ever tell him that… "I thought you liked him?"

He shrugged. "Nah, not really. I just didn't realize how big of creep he was until last night."

"Thanks for letting me in on the secret."

He opened his mouth, seemed to think about it, and then closed it again. "Well, say what you will about Rhonda, and I have—her game worked." At her wide-eyed look of disbelief, he continued. "We all know what we think about each other."

"I could have done without that."

His blue eyes got serious again. "No, you couldn't." His eyes seemed to hold on to her for a long moment before he exhaled suddenly and looked away. "Hey, that one is mine," he said as he picked up the fortune cookie on the end of the coffee table

Laverne offered up a brief prayer to St. Jude for the young, the innocent, and those incapable of learning, "Are you sure you want to do that after last night?"

Lenny enclosed the cookie in his large fist; the cracking sound seemed to satisfy him. When he opened his hand, his palm was littered with biscuit colored dust and crumbs, but not paper.

Lenny stared down at the debris in his hand for several long seconds. "Well," he said, with an almost bitter laugh, "I guess that answers that question."

"What question?" Laverne asked, more than a little uneasy by his odd laugh.

"I shot a blank, as usual. No fortune, no future."

"Len," she said, as she was frighteningly reminded of his off hand comment of killing himself the night before. He understood. She saw it in his eyes.

"No. Not that. No fortune. Nothing's decided," he said more to himself than to her. "It's up to me."

"Len…"

He turned to her and hugged her tightly, just a hug, no leering grinding. "I'm sorry," he said his lips against the crown of her head. "I'm sorry that you hurt right now."

She hugged him back. She had no more tears to shed, but he warmth of his frame gave her unexpected comfort.

"You know how I feel, Laverne. You've always known," he mumbled into her hair. "I can wait. I can wait a long time, but just not forever, okay? Not even for you anymore."

Laverne pulled back and looked up at his face, as she tried to come up with a wisecrack, a joke-- any sort of distraction to break the mood.

Lenny lowered his lips to hers and gently kissed her softly before stepping away from her. He took a deep breath and let it out with an air of finality. "Good bye, Laverne," he said quietly as he turned and walked out of her door.

Laverne's mouth opened and shut wordlessly as she sank back down onto her sofa. Wrong again, she thought, as a small spasm overtook her. She had plenty more tears to shed.

FIN


End file.
